Piensa en mì
by Tulpe
Summary: Alberto and Jojo are waiting feverishly to enjoy a magical evening ... but this night it just depends on them...Het Alberto Del Rio x OC
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone! This is my first mature fic in english! I hope you like!  
The title means "Think of me" in spanish!

The facts are totally invented and the story was not written for profit.

_Piensa en mì_

The alarm rings in the room softly lighted by the early sun.  
Alberto's eyes suddenly open up.  
The sheets are damp with sweat.  
He dreamed of her again.  
She was beautiful.  
She was gorgeous.  
And she was not dressed.  
He does not dare looking his groin, feeling the erection pawing furiously in his briefs.  
That magical night when he kissed her was followed by many others.  
All finished with sweet kisses which gradually became more and more passionate.  
The hands which from trembling and timid have become expert and sinuous.  
He touched her face, her hips, he felt her skin tremble under his touch, her breathing become labored.  
But they have not yet succeeded to get to the bottom.  
As far as worship him touch her smooth skin, her lips pink and soft, Alberto's soul feels the need to have something more.  
He enters quickly in the shower, and while the jet touches his amber body, he desperately tries to dismiss from his mind the remnants of that wonderful dream.  
He can not.  
Sighing, he closes his eyes, as his hand travels slowly down.  
His legs tremble, he moans softly.  
He thinks of her, caresses her with the thought, he seems to hear her sighs, sweet melody that makes him lose his mind.  
At the end he whispers her name, upset by the orgasm.

Jojo woke up at sunrise.  
But she did not get up from the bed.  
She gasps.  
She sighs.  
Her hand moves convulsively, under the covers.  
Her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open, her blond hair left on the pillow.  
She moans his name every minute, every rush of pleasure that pervades her.  
Her toes arching on the wet mattress.  
A groan higher than the others.  
Her head buried in the pillow.  
Her lips open and greedy of air.  
While her body still trembles, she wonders how much more will have to wait to hear his body muscled and defined on her skin.

Hector scratch insistently on the bathroom door.  
Alberto dries out his dark hair.  
"I know, I know, wait a minute, little evil bat."  
He puts on his briefs, a pair of jeans and goes in the living room.  
Upon entering, he sees the Chihuahua as he mates with a sofa cushion.  
Alberto not feels like to scold him.  
Indeed, he understands him.

The manuscript has been sent.  
Finally a bit of breath.  
Jojo runs her hand on her forehead, sighing.  
She thinks of his hands, which were never driven above her knee.  
She thinks of his lips, which glide sensual on her neck.  
She likes that he does not want everything at once.  
But nature calls.  
Indeed, nature screams.

Tonight he will revise her.  
Tonight she will revise him.  
And it will be the right time.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, hey! It's the second chapter of this story...thanks to coolcool02 for her rewiew! You rock!

The poem you read in cursive is part of the "Nemoroso" of Garcilaso de la Vega, Spanish Romantic poet of the sixteenth century.

The facts are completely fictional and the whole story was not written for profit.  
I thank all those who read or write a review! 

"Hector, come here!"  
The Chihuahua does not seem to hear Alberto's call, wandering around the apartment without a clear destination.

"Look, microbe, tonight I get angry seriously, COME HERE!"  
The Chihuahua comes close with lowered ears.  
Alberto sighs, bends down to caress its little head.  
"Sorry Hector, I'm restless tonight"  
Damn right he is.  
Soon he will review her smile, and just the thought makes him seethe his soul.  
How would like to take her in his arms, kissing her all over and make love with her.  
But he does not want to seem like a pervert unable to be with a woman without stretching his hands.  
But it is also true that she is irresistible, is enough for him smell her perfume to feel pervaded by the huge urge to hug her, to caress her.  
He takes the puppy, which almost disappears into his big hands, to bring him by the neighbor.

Katie Simmons, the neighbor who is always voluntary offers to keep Hector is a lady of about sixty years.  
Her son works in Europe, and she often does not see him.  
When Alberto moved into next to her, she was overjoyed because, he said, he is very similar to that distant son.  
For this reason every time that Alberto needs something, Katie gets over backwards to help him.  
It 's like a "second mother" to him.  
"Excuse me, Mrs. Simmons, I hope this plague does not give too much trouble."  
"No, dear, it makes me a lot of company this little devil" she sniffs the air for a moment, "What is her name?".  
Alberto tries to look away, a po'imbarazzato.  
"What's her name ... who?".  
Katie grins, taking the dog from his hands.  
"The lucky woman you frequent, darling," she sighs seeing the Mexican's eyes widen in disbelief, "I did not come down with the last drop of rain!, the first time your house was a continuous meeting with those of your friends as high as cabinets, you ate like locusts and you partied all night, the money I spent on all those earplugs are blessed! Instead now is almost a month that you entrust to me Hector all well dressed and with a new aftershave every time, now, will you tell me her name or should I do a list of all the stuff that I cooked for you and those energumens? ".  
Alberto chuckles, lowering his head.  
"Jojo, that is actually called Jovita, but I call her Jojo because she hates her name, I like her name, but because ..."  
"I understand, I understand, heck, when you're upset you just can not make a meaningful sentence! Hehe, a big guy like you who is so eager to just say the name of a woman, you men are not changed at all since I was young ... "Caress the little head of Hector.  
"It's not easy to get to you, Mrs. Simmons" Albert system the collar of his white shirt "I would also have another thing to ask ... you can keep Hector for the whole night?".  
Katie slyly looks at him, a smile crinkling her face.  
"... something tells me I'll have to pull out of the drawer the earplugs ... good night, honey."  
Alberto blushed violently, before greeting the neighbor.

Jojo is struggling with her wardrobe, as always.  
But this time I want to be just ... pretty.  
Jojo tonight wants to be gorgeous, beautiful breath-taking.  
She wants Alberto jumps on her.  
She wants him to kiss her all over, that the string in his arms ...  
Her heart beat furiously in her chest, she hears echoing in her head.  
She shoves a black dress in a hurry, the hem of her skirt a few inches above the knee, the smooth fabric clings to her body, following her soft curves.  
She stumbles on her white slippers padded, abandoned on the floor of the room, falling disastrously on the floor.  
Chewing a curse she gets up, rubbing her knee, and praying that not appear a bruise.  
She glares at the patent leather shoes that she will have to put the thin high heel does not reassure her at all.  
The slips twisting her lips, hoping to walk on so at least human.  
She looks in the mirror for a moment.  
She smiles.  
If she, who has never shone to self-esteem, she sees her beautiful, he will surely remain speechless.  
On her face appears a grimace of pain.  
The shoes are narrow and uncomfortable.  
If that is the price to pay to feel his lips again, she is willing to hold them for a whole year.

The deep rumble of the car calms Alberto.  
He waits under her door, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of dark skin.  
He mutters under his breath a few words.  
He learned by heart one thing you definitely will like to her.  
He just hopes to get no flustered, and to not look like an idiot.  
He was too pledged to fail.  
He hears the door creak open.  
And looks at her.  
Oh damn.  
The fitting dress.  
The sinuous legs.  
The golden hair in a braid soft, which allows to escape a few strands rebel.  
The breast vigorous emphasized, but not too much, from the cut of the dress.  
And who we can, to talk about?

With that black suit Alberto is divinely.  
She looks at him adoringly throughout the evening.  
But this time he seems on tenterhooks, he seems to have something to fear.  
Maybe she has gone too far by dressing that way proved to be a little aggressive.  
She barely touches his arm.  
"Is there something wrong?".  
Hesitates for a moment.  
Then, suddenly, he kisses her.  
Greedily.  
Hugs her firm, holds her by the hips determined not to let her go.  
His big and warm hands alight on her cheeks.  
He moves away, slowly, almost reluctantly.  
"I want you," he whispers.  
She waited a long these two words.

He waited a long to say these two words.  
He said these words straight off, after hearing again the taste of her lips.  
She smiles, stares at him.  
"Me too."  
He is expecting to wake up in his bed, upset, the sheets damp with sweat and excitement.  
But this is not a dream.  
He's touching her face.  
He is kissing her lips.  
He is caressing her skin.  
The alarm this time can do nothing.

They kiss each other at every step, in the faintly lit hallway leading to the apartment with him.  
Once opened the door, Alberto holds her in his arms to lift her.  
The door closes behind them.

Alberto puts a hand behind her head gently to loosen her braid.  
He approaches her neck, kissing it barely touching the skin rippling under his breath.  
He pledged too much to not tell her what he had learned.  
No longer afraid to crash.  
He wants her.  
She wants him.  
At this time, he's not afraid of anything.  
Now his mouth is close to her ear, and he whispered to her:

"Contigo, mano a mano  
busquemos otros prados y otros ríos,  
otros valles floridos y sombríos,  
donde descanse, y siempre pueda verte  
ante los ojos míos,  
sin miedo y sobresalto de perderte.*"

Jojo holds her breath.  
Those words.  
It 's all so perfect.  
She takes his head in her hands, kissing him again and again, while trying to remove his jacket.  
At the end she succeeds, and while slowly unbuttons his white shirt she hears the zipper dress loose more and more.  
Thin straps glide over her skin, the excitement enhances the sensations.  
Jojo trembles a little, between her fingers the last button of his shirt.  
She sees his sculpted chest.  
She puts her hand on his amber skin.  
She is short of breath.  
"Alberto ..." she murmurs.  
He takes her chin in his fingers.  
He lifts her head.  
Touched her lips with his thumb.  
Alberto looks into her eyes.  
His eyes are so damn intense.  
She feels almost die.  
"Are you sure?" He asks softly.  
"You Already Know that ... Alberto Del Rio ..." she says, biting her lips.  
Alberto laughs softly.  
His hands slide on her neck, her breast, her hips.  
His hands are slow and sensual.  
Her dress is crumpled at her feet, lapping at her ankles.  
Alberto hugs her, pushing her gently on the bed, lifting her leg slowly to take it around waist.  
He kisses her neck again, slides down to her breast white as ivory.  
He stops, as if wanting to ask tacit permission to proceed.  
Her slender fingers dipped in his black hair are more than eloquent.  
He grazes his lips with the smooth surface around her nipple, switch to fondle it with the hot tongue.  
Her moans multiply, convulsive.  
His hand slips on her sex, he caresses her most sensitive spot making her jump, grazes her labia moisten sudden.  
Alberto feels her tremble, her chest rising and falling relentlessly, her muffled squeals fill his head, he does not think about anything else.  
It does not matter anything else in the world now.  
Alberto drops even lower, rubs his lips against the abdomen full of sighs, the belly that contracts spasmodically.  
The tongue is replaced by his fingers, he feels her pussy wet, penetrates it with his tongue making her arch her back, his nostrils quiver feeling the damp smell of her delicate walls.  
"Te amo, Mariposa," he whispers while dating.  
She opens her legs further, it seems to beg him to sink into her.  
He slides in her with slowly, feeling her nails sticking in the back, a sob stifled and a hoarse moan.

Alberto is inside her.  
Alberto said he loved her.  
Jojo arched her back again, desperately looking for a closer contact.  
She feels his hands on her face, his fingers gently push her tufts of hair on the face.  
He approaches every thrust to a tenderness, as if afraid of hurting her, to break like a porcelain doll.  
He moans softly, speaking to her in Spanish, while he possesses her, and the sweet musicality of his voice makes her lose her reason.  
She kisses him clinging to his neck.  
She whispers brokenly his name before tighten him like a vice , it emits a cry shattered by the prolonged orgasm, interrupted from his lips that press on her, as to be nourished by her pleasure, her hot breath.  
He moves away, looks into her eyes liquid with pleasure.  
Her mouth opens to murmur:  
"Te amo".

Jojo told him she loved him.  
He feels lightheaded, his sight wobbles for a moment.  
Upset by the orgasm, Jojo is even more beautiful.  
Alberto tightens her hips with his hands, the latest thrusts are almost painful, his erection is relentless and fiery.  
Her walls tight on him, the burning sensation of the scratches on his back do the rest.  
He moans louder, hugging her.  
It's all so perfect.

"Eres preciosa como un rayo de luna **" Alberto whispers to her lying on his back, her head on his chest.  
His fingers fiddling with her hair uncombed.  
Jojo smiles, clutching him even more.  
In the room the smell of sex.  
The smell of groans, wet lips of dimpled skin by chills.  
"You really love me?" She asks, her slender fingers along an established route on his abs.  
"Look at me, Mariposa."  
Her head turns, her eyes shall look harmonious.  
"I memorized Garcilaso, for you I would be willing also to learn the poems of Neruda, I did this for an adventure, in your opinion?".  
She smiles how much he loves those lips so disclosed.  
"I don't love you because you learn things by heart, I love you because you know by heart how to make me happy."  
Sweet.  
Typical of her.  
He kisses her.  
In her lips, he feels at home.

Alberto opened his eyes, which slowly get used to the light of dawn, he turns his head to the side where Jojo had fallen asleep.  
He can not find her.  
He sits up in alarm, his eyes moving from side to side of the room.  
He sees the window to the balcony open.  
He puts on his pants and exits.  
Sees her leaning against the railing, a cigarette between her fingers just turned on, her blonde hair caressed by the morning wind.  
She is wearing the white shirt that had the night before.  
She does not get to the thighs, he sees her panties translucent black.  
"Buenos días, mi amor" she murmurs tilting the head, naturally.  
He hugs her from behind, kissing her behind the ears.  
"You know? My shirt looks better on you," he whispers, squeezing her slightly stronger.  
"You know? You're better off without the shirt, "she replies mischievous, tightens the cigarette in her lips for a moment, before releasing a puff of smoke in the air.  
He chuckles, he slids his hands under the white cloth to gently caress her hips, finds its way through the golden hair to kiss her neck.  
"If you put it in those terms ... you're better off without too ..."  
She gasps, laughing flirtatious.  
"Hey ..." she murmurs, her voice is lowered slowly, the cigarette turned off now thrown off the balcony, "So ... what do you say to take it off again?".  
"You know the answer, Mariposa" he says, before kissing her and get her weight to bring her in the room.

* With you, hand in hand,

I search for other lawns and other rivers,

other valleys, shady flowering

to rest, and to see you always

without fear and terror of losing you.

** You're beautiful like a moonbeam


End file.
